Final Truth

Chapter 60: Lose Your Sense of Self

Julia's point of view:

When I open my eyes to the test, the first thing that I register is silence.

It's the deafening sort, the kind of quiet that's eerie and invades the ears, causing the mind to make up noises that don't exist and letting the imagination run wild with horrific scenarios to explain it.

The second thing I notice is that I'm locked in a closet with four feet on each side, white walls and white floors being the only things that greet my sight. They're unnaturally bright, almost painful to look at, too sterile and clean for comfort.

Nothing is without even a little bit of filth, not a thing in this wretched world. Not people either.

I back myself into one of the corners and sit, pulling my knees up to my chin and screwing my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing.

In......hold it........and out.

In......hold it........and out.

I remind myself that it's a test, my last chance to defeat Henley, and that I can't fail again. I'm out of time, and if this goes bad, more people than just myself are going to face the consequences.

I begin looking around the little closet frantically for a way out, my enhanced hearing reflecting my own heartbeat into something concussive and overwhelming.

In......hold it........and out.

But there's no door in here, no windows, no air vents or anything that I could use to get out.

My heartbeat picks up into a singular buzzing that seems to vibrate between my ears, driving my brain into sensory overload as that one continuous noise becomes the only thing I can truly concentrate on.

The sound makes everything else disorienting, the walls of the little space blurring and seeming to close in on me, the ceiling shrinking down to meet my head.

I'm going to be crushed.

I scramble to stand and thrust my arms out on each side in an attempt to stop the walls from closing in on me, but my hands never seem to touch them despite my eyes trying to tell me that they're getting closer.

Sweat beads on my forehead and I can feel my heartbeat in my throat now, the feel of it seeming to make my whole body twitch as my breathing becomes harder and faster with each intake.

The walls are right in front of my face now, pushing me between them, but I don't feel their weight, don't experience the feeling of being crushed as it looks like I am about to be.

And then, with a fleeting moment of clarity, I realize that I'm hallucinating.

The walls aren't closing in, even if that's what my eyes want me to see. I'm not about to be crushed, even if I feel like I'm suffocating.

You're claustrophobic, Julia, a more rational part of myself says. You just don't like the small space you're in. Concentrate; you'll find a way out.

I close my eyes again and sink to my knees, carding my fingers through my hair in an attempt to touch something solid and real, not the phantom feeling of the walls that seem intent on pressing me into nothingness.